


Asking the Right Questions

by FluffyKasady



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: ABO Universe, Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Natasha Romanov, Beta Steve Rogers, Canon Divergent, Events in this fic take place after Civil War and before Infinity War, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Not Wanda Friendly, Omega Clint Barton, Omega Peter Parker, Omega Tony Stark, Panic Attacks, Protective Everyone, Protective Peter Parker, Sam is a beta, Self Harm, Slow Burn, Steve is better than in the movies, Steve learns a lesson about honesty and communication, Therapy Positive, They dont know Tony is an Omega, Tony has PTSD, Tony has anxiety, Tony has been through a lot, a/b/o dynamics, and so is the Bucky/Steve, but not anti-Steve, no Steve hate here, possible service animal, the Bucky/Tony is a slowburn, the Tony/Steve is sorta already a thing, this fic is gonna be focused mostly on Tony finally getting some damn help, this is a Tony-centric fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2020-03-06 02:56:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18842203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyKasady/pseuds/FluffyKasady
Summary: Tony has been through a lot, if he's being as honest as he possibly can be. This just happened to be the thing that broke the camel's back.





	1. Honesty Hour

**Author's Note:**

> well this is my first longfic in the Marvel fandom, I hope it turns out decent XD thank you to anyone who reads or leaves kudos or comments, and join me in what I hope is a fun, satisfying story about three guys that need to learn the benefits of a _healthy, honest, communication filled relationship._
> 
> this fic isn't compliant with how things go in the movies, which is pretty obvious in what all Tony thinks about in this chapter. I just want to warn anyone going into this that'd expecting it to be all the way to the plot of the MCU; its not going to be.
> 
> also this is an A/B/O style universe! probably won't be any smut, more an in depth look at what those kinds of dynamics do in a more stylized modern society.
> 
> medvezhonok- little bear, or teddy bear

It was cold in the shop, colder than the cave, colder than space even though just the thought of that seemed impossible. Space had been an empty void of nothing, absolutely nothing but ice and fear and the awful feeling of being so utterly alone. He’d been so afraid, when he’d gone through that wormhole and been suddenly surrounded by so much nothing. And he was afraid now, but for an entirely different reason.

His eyes flitted over the monitors, watching as Clint and Natasha laughed, Sam telling some story with his arms in the air, the three of them sharing quite a large meal of what looked like fried chicken tenders and biscuits, thick mac and cheese and an unhealthy amount of mashed potatoes. The very sight of it made his mouth water, tongue coming out to wet his lips as he wondered if there’d be any left for him to steal, after the others had gone to bed.

He felt the same old worry enter his thoughts; that he was letting them down by not interacting, by staying locked up down here all day and night and only coming out after they’d all were long asleep, disappearing before they came back out in the morning. Sure he was available when duty called, already suited up and out to wherever they’d been called to serve up some good ole UN style justice.

Still, some part of him was relieved to not see Steve or their newest charge anywhere in frame. He’d seen them in the kitchen and had quickly switched feed, unwilling to let his thoughts drift that harshly. Not that he had much control over them in the first place, but it was his last ditch effort in staving off that panic attack he’d been fighting off since Steve had come and told him the news.

New York seemed so long ago, and he and the rest of the team had certainly come a long way, eventually moving from the easily blown up Tower to the Compound that was a bit easier to protect. On the surface, it had concrete shelters for the occasional tornado, safe rooms for anyone that might need protecting, and an excellent system of rooms for various purposes. It also had enough space to hide away the population of at least two large cities in the catacombs underneath, not that Tony planned on advertising that unless absolutely necessary.

But New York was far away, the Chitauri and Loki so very far away, but then all the shit with Killian and Extremis had happened, and hadn’t that left its own scars on his psyche. Then finding all the Hydra outposts after Steve and Natasha had outed the tentacle ridden hide of Shield to the world, saving all the outed agents that needed saving, sending condolences to the families of the ones they couldn’t save. Tony had been… well, more than a  _ bit  _ pissed about the lack of foresight on that, but it wasn’t as if the two of them had very much time to consult him about it. (Sometimes he wondered who they could have saved if he’d been told, even a day or two before.)

And of course Steve’s old war buddy (that Tony was at least 89% positive had been more than a “buddy”) turned out to be a Hydra ghost that had a hand in at least 30 assassinations in the past 50 or so years. Steve wanted to go after him, find him, help him. Tony wanted to leave the damn guy alone, since it was obvious what he wanted was little more than the ones who’d tortured him for 70+ years to mysteriously end up with a bullet between their eyebrows, but Steve was Steve. He was a friend, more than a friend sometimes; he was the one Tony went to when he had his breakdowns and panic attacks and Rhodey wasn’t there to help and he just… couldn’t stomach being alone. Even when Steve did stupid crazy shit and Tony was left to pick up the pieces, Steve always, in the end, came to help him.

The main issue, the whole reason Tony had been hiding out in the first place, was that Steve had taken him aside, sometime after the first mission to go stake out an old Hydra base, and had informed him that he needed to tell him something. Something important, something that would probably  _ change  _ things. 

Tony hated change, had hated it every time something big happened and everything changed, but this was Steve, and if he said it was important, then it was important.

Finding out that the old War Buddy, Buck Barnes, best friend of Captain America and lover boy of the Howling Commandos, the guy that his father would mourn with the others, the man they had just recently found out was still alive... he was the one that'd done old Howard in. Had killed his  _ mother _ . And yeah, that changed things, it really did, but...

But then Sokovia had happened, Ultron had happened, and things got a bit patchy. Tony had new things to have nightmares about, Steve was in his room a little more often than usual, and even when Tony explained that he and Bruce hadn’t actually made Ultron, the team felt a little more distant than he remembered them being. He didn't have time to think about Bucky or what he'd done, who he'd  _ killed _ , not on top of everything else that was running through his already crowded head.

And the Accords, hadn’t that been a shitshow. Steve had been against them, of course, worrying that the government just wanted more control over everything they did. Tony knew that they needed structure, needed rules, or Sokovia would happen over and over again. New York would happen again. Eventually Steve had come around to the idea, and when the bomb went off and killed the Wakandan king and they learned it was Bucky, well, Steve had backup when he went to go get him. (And even if the thought of seeing him made Tony feel physically ill, he went because Steve asked him to, had practically begged. Tony couldn't say no to that.)

Now Bucky was with them, safe and under protection by the UN as a POW that had been brainwashed into doing all the horrible shit he’d done over the last 50 years, on the condition that they'd get his head fixed. The Accords were in effect, Zemo’s plan had pretty much no effect at all, and the team was stronger than it’d been before.

And then… and then Tony had gotten the file on the Winter Soldier, compiled by FRIDAY, and had found that Steve had been telling the truth, that… that he’d finally found his parents’ killer. His mother’s murderer. He’d finally found out why they crashed that night, why they’d been found  _ strangled  _ when they should have survived the crash.

And he hadn’t talked to Steve since. He couldn't, couldn't look at him when he was so busy helping Bucky back on his feet, not when he felt his windpipe slowly crushing in and his chest filling with molten lead any time he was even in the same room. Hell, the same fucking building. He could smell the scent of the broken alpha when he went into different rooms, his own instincts battling with his absolute terror.

The smell of an approaching alpha made his hackles raise as he turned away from the monitors, his own synthetic pheromones leaking out into the room to let whoever it was know that he was on the edge, and not to be messed with. He watched the door to the elevator, waiting for tense seconds until it opened and Natasha walked through, a plate of steaming food in her hands.

She walked up a respectful distance, then raised a brow, the look perfected like only an alpha could do. Tony refused to turn throat, raising his own brown in question.

“Figured even our resident genius needed food. It’s damn good.” She lifted the plate in question, waiting for his permission to come closer and give it to him.

There was no question who the superior in this room was though, especially given extenuating circumstances. Tony finally glanced down, allowing her to finish her walk over to his desk, placing the plate heaping with chicken and biscuits on top of a mountain of mashed potatoes, white gravy covering it all on the desktop beside him. Then she took a respectful step back and he felt himself relax a little, even as his instincts begged her to come closer.

Something must have slipped through his mask of indifference, Natasha glancing at the camera feed before speaking again. “You know you’ll have to come out of hiding some time, medvezhonok. All of us do.” And with that she turned foot, face as placid as when she’d come in, and headed back to the elevator, leaving him to his steaming plate of goodness that was, unsurprisingly, the best fried chicken and biscuits he’d ever had. If he wasn’t currently avoiding the both of them, he’d have begged them to teach him how to make more traditional southern food. They seemed to have some kind of innate talent for it, despite being Brooklyn boys through and through.

Busying himself with blueprints for the next Starkpad and all the new projects that needed to be approved from R&D, he worked through until 3 in the morning, after which the stains of gravy and hardened scrapes of mashed potato had left a caked substance on the plate. Checking the camera feed he found no one about, no one lurking or otherwise awake. Which, it was 3 in the morning, it’d be strange if they were.

Sneaking upstairs, he put his plate in the dishwasher, grabbed the box of leftover chicken tenders, glanced back toward the guest rooms. Then headed back down to the shop.


	2. What are friends for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so Tony makes some decisions... but are they the right ones?
> 
> don't worry by the way, this is a hurt/comfort recovery fic lol its a little angsty here or there, but this is mostly focusing on the comfort recovery part of things. also the others are not going to take this lying down, no matter how fucking scary Pepper is lol
> 
> enjoy ^^

His hand ran over his face, down over his tired, sunken eyes and the stubble patch that remained of his goatee. He meant to grow it out more, but shit happened and he was under more and more stress these days, so much so that his beard had just. Stopped growing out. He hadn’t had time to wonder about the science behind it, just knew that sometimes his body hurt and most of the time he was about two steps from a panic attack but right now, right now he was on a call with Rhodey and Pepper, and he needed to concentrate on that or they were gonna-

“Tony I think you need to start seeing a therapist.”

Yeah. That. “I’m not seeing another head shrink, Pepper. It’s not happening, the one I had as a kid taught me more than one lesson about trusting head doctors.”

She huffed, sitting back in her chair, the image quality buffering for a second before it cleared up. Tony couldn’t help but revel in the sight of her; it’d been so long since they’d actually seen each other. 

“I know that, they weren’t the right kind of “head doctor” apparently. A good one would have actually walked you through ways to work past your parents.” She spat the words like they were actual poison, and that’s when he remembered that for all Pepper tried to get him into therapy, she’d had bad experiences before as well with trying to find the right therapist

He still remembered her coming home in tears, blouse torn and soaked from head to toe from the pouring rain outside. He’d taken care of business immediately, but it didn’t erase the scars of that night.

Hell, Rhodey had his own dismal experiences with rifling through therapists, though he was knocking back a tall pint of what looked like beer, so perhaps he still hadn’t found the right one. 

Tony could ask Friday what the beer was exactly by shade and color and the...  _ obvious  _ bottle in the background, it would have been a nice turn of topic. This conversation had him all on broken shards of uncomfortable, poking and prodding at the most jagged edges of his psyche. He was pretty insanely close to just disconnecting the call and telling Friday to block them both, but then she’d probably ignore the order or, if she didn’t and she actually did block them, they’d both fly over and give him a piece of their minds.

Then they’d probably go after everyone else and as much as Tony would pay to see the look on Captain America’s face when Pepper really got going, he was trying to mend fences. Bridges. Whatever it was. Better to keep Pepper in New York and Rhodey wherever the hell the Air Force had him stationed these days.

Rhodey finally spoke, cleaning the suds from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Tones, we both think you need to… do  _ something _ . Trying to keep up with everything is  _ killing  _ you, we can both see it.”

And then, shit, they were both using their concerned faces, the genuine ones, and words came spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“I just need to get out, out of this compound, away from them all, away from the government trying to fist laws up my ass and Steve mother henning our new little protege and... I just want to go back to the Tower, or Malibu, and I can’t even, I can’t even do that!” His breaths were sped up, Friday warning him with her soft voice that his heart rate was above acceptable levels and not for the first time since he’d activated her, he wanted to spit a “No duh” at the ceiling. It was one of those irrational reactions from having a panic attack, he was pretty sure; she wasn’t even up there.

He slowly realized Rhodey and Pepper were closer to their screens, talking him through the panic attack, or anxiety attack, or whatever the hell it was, his chest hurt and his back was hurting again and he just wanted to lay down or get blackout drunk, one of the two.

“C’mon, Tones, breath deep in, breath deep out.” Rhodey was talking him through, and the barest amount of fucks Tony still had to give about the whole situation, and there were  _ few _ , got him breathing with his friend. A small, sob of a chuckle escaped at the sight of Rhodey breathing in and out with exaggerated chest movements. Still, it got him calmed down enough that he could breathe on his own, his chest lightening up a bit though the pressure was still there.

The pressure was always there.

“Tony, I’m gonna ask you a question, and I want you to think before you answer me. Really think about it.”

Tony stared hard at Rhodey for a second, wondering how bad this was going to be, before he nodded, wishing more than ever that the others weren’t around all the time so he could go raid the bar upstairs.

Rhodey gave him an assessing look, then, “Would it matter, would it  _ really matter _ , if you _stopped_ being Iron Man for a little while?”

And while his mouth opened to immediately answer that yes, yes it would matter, the team needed him, the government would be up in arms and the people needed Iron Man and… and the longer he kept himself from talking, the longer he let himself think about it, the closer he came to the realization that no, no it wouldn’t matter if he stopped being Iron Man, not if it was for a “little while”.

The government was almost always up his ass about one thing or another, first about wanting the suit, then about Shield, then about Ultron and really, when he thought about it, as long as he still checked in with the team and provided them with the upgraded teach and weapons they needed and showed up to certain important meetings with the UN… no, they’d be thrilled if he stopped being Iron Man permanently, let alone for a “little while”. 

The team… the team would be harder to convince. He’d been an Avenger since the beginning, since New York and Coulson and they probably thought he was one of them but… The truth was that he was fucking done hiding in the shop and dancing around everyone whenever he had to go out in public. He didn’t even  _ have  _ to convince them, he could just say he was taking a break and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it. Steve would be too busy with Barnes to care, anyways.

He refused to let that hurt. 

And the people, well that was easy enough. There was a whole team of super people that could protect them, more and more supers signing the Accords every day, and if he was really worried he could send out the newly improved Iron Legion, controlled by Vision. 

So no. It wouldn’t really matter if he stopped being Iron Man, for a “little while”, and he told Rhodey so. Both his best friends nodded, smiling, and for once he felt something like relief fill his system at the thought of moving out of the Compound, away from the others, away from  _ Barnes _ , and living back in the Tower.

“Would… you both mind helping me move?”

The look of elation on their faces was enough to cinch the decision in Tony’s mind. He was done hiding away. He was done feeling afraid. He was going to make some damn changes and whatever it took, he was going to get better.

~.~

It took nearly a week to move everything, covertly, from the Compound to the Tower, and while he was sure Natasha knew, none of the others were more the wiser until the day he left. His phone blew up with messages, some from Natasha, some from Clint, but… most of them were from Steve. 

He ignored all of them, stepping into the helicopter that was to take him to New York, final bag of possessions in hand. He didn’t look down at the Compound as they left, didn’t watch out the window to see if any of them had come to send him off. He didn’t want to know what seeing any of them would have felt like. 

He  _ refused  _ to let it hurt.

Stepping out of the helicopter and into the Tower felt like a breath of fresh air, Friday welcoming him back with a “How do you do, Boss.” and just like that…

He was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> over 700 hits in three days guys, what the hell??? thank you so much, im so glad you guys are enjoying this so much XD
> 
> i hope it continues to be enjoyable ^^


	3. Pepper is a Goddess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so there are some very important notes about this fic in the end notes! Please read them if you haven't read the tags or aren't sure where the team's loyalties lie in this fic because I needed to clear a few things up!
> 
> Thank you everyone that's been reading, and leaving comments and kudos! You guys really make my day ^^
> 
> enjoy?

It took him nearly a week to get used to using the living areas in the Tower again, especially since no one else was living here anymore. Having the others around had been… well, he wasn’t exactly sure if it had been good or bad, maybe it depended on the day. But over all he had to admit he missed having a Tower full of other people to talk to. Still, he felt at least 110% better living here, alone, than he had cooped up in the Compound trying to avoid seeing or talking to any of them, Friday often diverting their attention while he ninja’d his way around in the background. 

He was getting too old for the whole “duck and roll” routine. His back had cracked loudly halfway through and he’d just laid there for a while the last time he’d tried it.

He knew the team was still being called out for the usual, more bad guys in different countries popping up as more supers stepped forward to sign the Accords. And some supers were becoming the bad guys by not signing, but usually it was the hard ass, super violent types that didn’t want to reveal that they didn’t really have a moral code like they pretended to. He had no qualms with vigilantes like Frank Castle being hunted down and arrested for what he’d done to innocent people. 

Of course the goal for these kinds of people was always rehabilitation, though Tony wondered how well that was going for some of them. There were always crazies that saw the world through a different pair of cracked glasses.

Either way, he’d hung up his suit, only keeping his nanotech one he’d cooked up while on lockdown on his person. He was no longer Iron Man, at least not for the public. The government had, unsurprisingly, been elated that he was giving up the life, and were, also unsurprisingly, asking for rights to the suit. Not that they were actually getting anywhere with that, not with Potts on the case.

Which, speaking of Potts. Tony glanced up from where he was feverishly writing down the answer to an equation he’d just thought of, the alpha staring back at him with cool eyes. 

“I promise, Pepp, I’ve been getting at least 5 hours a night, ask Friday!”

There was silence from the ceiling, a sure sign of his deceit. He grumbled as Pepper raised a brow, throwing his hands in the air as he slouched back in his chair, pouting. “Okay, so I can’t sleep. I’ve never been able to sleep, and that’s just a fact of life. I get at least three hours a night though, that should count for something!”

Pepper laughed behind her hand, a twinkling light in her eyes as she shook her head. “It does count for something, Tony, but you know just as much as I do that a human needs at least 8 hours to function.”

He wanted to snap at her that he was functioning, he was functioning perfectly fine, but by the look on her face it wouldn’t have gone over well. Still, he pouted fiercely, determined to show his displeasure if he wasn’t allowed to speak it. Pepper finally sighed, shaking her head, and while he knew he hadn’t won, he relaxed a little. 

“Well, I will leave you to your work then, Mr. Stark, but I will be very  _ cross  _ if you do not get at least 3 hours as you’ve promised.” She raised her brow again, this time in a “there is no other answer here than yes ma'am” kind of way. He nodded, sullen, and she chuckled, signing off after blowing him a kiss.

Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if their relationship had really taken off, but… honestly he knew it was for the best that they broke up. She was a great best friend, and an excellent mate for whoever she chose, but he was just too broken at the best of times for it to have worked out. 

Shaking his head, he turned back to his worktable, only to pause as the little light on his phone to go off, signalling that he was receiving a text from someone. He picked it up lightly, pressing the little button on the side to get the screen to light up, only to toss the phone back on the table with a little more force than was probably needed. He was not answering Steve, he wasn’t even going to read the message. He’d read none of them up until now, and he wasn’t about to start now that’d he’d really gotten into a groove.

For the next few hours he wrapped himself up in his work, coming up with new designs for R&D, processing some of the designs that had been sent up for approval, and signing a few papers that Pepper had said she absolutely needed by the end of the week. By the end of it he was exhausted, starting to feel those 3 hours a night as he slouched in his chair, dead eyes gazing up at the screens. 

Rhodey had sent him the files on a therapist he had seen after a rough stint in duty, claimed she had done quite a bit of good for him and had seen lots of people with anxiety and PTSD. While Tony wasn’t entirely certain what was wrong with his brain could be categorized as something that bad off, he was pretty sure he could find something about her he didn’t like, enough that Rhodey would get off his back about it.

After about an hour of looking, though, everything he was reading pointed to the therapist being legit. She had extensive hours logged with everything from a soldier who’d lost his eye in a skirmish to even Shield agents, not that he’d found that particular bit out through Rhodey’s files. She seemed knowledgeable, capable, and he was sure that if he did go see her, she’d probably help him figure his shit out.

It was mostly the whole… talking thing that was keeping him from even considering it. For any of it to work, he had to talk about his problems, had to air them out like rank laundry and hope that it wasn’t bad enough to put her off. No, there was no way, he decided, leaning back again into his chair. No way for him to keep up his walls and let someone inside at the same time.

Something in him wanted to check the Compound’s camera system, see what they were up to. Something even smaller wanted to make sure they were alright. The rest of him shoved those parts away and stood, heading for his private quarters. The shower ran hot, the fans cold as he wormed his way under three comforters, feeling something about the weight of them that calmed his mind. He was starting to smell _himself_ again, he'd need to buy more scent blockers soon or someone would get a good whiff and it'd be all over the damn news.

He probably wouldn’t sleep. Really, there was a statistically high chance that he wouldn’t, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d lay there in the dark all night, ignoring the demons that came to whisper in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes about this fic and how the plot is compliant with MCU canon!!
> 
> This fic is not fully Age of Ultron/CA:Winter Soldier/CA:Civil War compliant in that Steve told Tony about Bucky killing his parents early on, and that Tony helped him find Bucky before things could go south, and in that the whole Civil War didn't happen because the team actually somewhat trusts each other. Tony knew that the Accords were a good idea, even if they needed amended in a few places, and Steve decided to trust his judgement.
> 
> The reason Tony is so traumatized though (and actually has PTSD as a result), is because he still went through Afghanistan, the Battle of New York, everything with Extremis (even if in this, the team helped more than in IM3), losing Jarvis to Ultron, Wanda messing with his head, and his shitty childhood because Howard is a dick.
> 
> But Steve never left Tony for dead, and they weren't using him in this, even if he feels like it sometimes. He's depressed and anxious and suffers with PTSD, sometimes your thoughts lie to you and its easy to believe them.


	4. Protege, or bodyguard?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the wait on this one guys, but honestly we're probably looking at a once, maybe twice a month update schedule for this fic. I'm currently active in other fandoms with multiple fics, and I'm planning on starting more than one fic here, so that'll be how it is.
> 
> thank you to all the positive feedback so far, I'm so happy everyone is enjoying the fic ^^ here we have the introduction of some new tags because of a new character, who I'm sure we're all happy to see :D (Dad Tony for the win)

He was neck deep in a personal project that Friday was overseeing, DUM-E in the corner with fire extinguisher in claw, when his phone chimes with that little tone he set for the secretary that sits at the front desk of the tower. It’s not often he hears that chime, since no one that needs clearance to come up is usually given the time of day in the first place, but sometimes it happens. Hence the need for its own little sound.

Putting down the blowtorch (and making sure it was off before he did so, this time), he checked his messages, eyes lighting up when he saw who exactly it was asking for permission to see him. Peeling off his gloves and throwing them on the counter, he pocketed his phone as he ran to the elevator, calling out a “Ground floor, Fri darling.” as he stepped inside. Dutifully, Friday took him down to the main floor, where a certain teenager was standing with his shoulders up somewhere near his ears, the Alpha secretary keeping him in place simply with a look.

Tony all but ran over, picking Peter up into his arms and relaxing as Omega scent slowly surrounded the both of them. Throwing Peter over his shoulder and ignoring the way the kid laughed and lightly hit his back (and the way his shoulder protested, he’d need Friday to scan him later), he glanced to the secretary with a smile. 

“Thank you for your service, Stacy, but Peter has clearance to see me whenever he likes, even if he forgets his card.”

She nodded, typing in something on her computer that was likely a description to go with the pictures they had of Peter now, so this mistake wouldn’t happen in the future. She gave him a discreet nod, Tony returning it as he made an about face and lugged the kid back to the elevator all while loudly proclaiming that “If you forget your card at home again, kiddo, I’m just gonna leave you hanging next time!”

Once inside the elevator, the doors shut behind them as they started to ascend, Peter was placed gently back on the floor, even his slight weight having done a bit of a number to Tony’s spine. The expression on his face must have shown more than he was going to say out loud about it, since Peter frowned a little, his pheromones kicking up a notch. Tony sighed as his nose filled with the sweet scent of Omega, pulling Peter close as the kid tugged him even closer.

“I missed you, Pete. I really did.” His voice did not break in the middle of that sentence. Peter just laughed a water chuckle, pulling back enough to give Tony one of his cheesy grins.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Stark, I’m here now.”

And there he was, for all the time it took to get up to the main living area and get the kid a soda, strawberry because Peter had some kind of grudge against colas. Then he sat up on the counter like the heathen he was and Tony joined him, tired and achy and really still feeling those three hours a night, but his protege was here and he was not going to miss a second of time spent with him.

He never got to see Harley like he wanted to, he wasn’t going to have the same happen with Peter.

The two of them snarked and gaffed about life events, both small and big, and about how things were going with school, or SI, or Pepper and Rhodey or MJ and Ned. For a while they just sipped on their sodas and talked about nothing, nothing of consequence, nothing important, until Peter finally looked down at his soda bottle, took a drink, and then asked with a side eyed stare, “So where are the others?”

Tony very carefully did not ask where the kid had learned that kind way to ask a question, because what the hell? He also did not choke on his drink, he swallowed carefully before answering what was the truth, no matter how bitter it made the back of his throat taste.

“If you mean the Avengers, they’re at the Compound. It’s better for them there.” He very carefully did not mention any of them by name, and better yet didn’t even think about Steve. Peter, however, didn’t look convinced. 

“Better how?” It may have seemed like an innocent question on the outside, all gentle concern that was, again, on the  _ outside  _ directed to the team in question. Tony knew better.

“It’s better because I don’t have them breathing down my back about upgrades and money, you brat.” In true Stark fashion, he glanced out toward the TV center and couches, ready to change the subject to something that didn’t make his stomach curl in on itself. “I got a new movie, if you want to watch it, it’s about this girl with some  _ seriously  _ curly hair and a bear, and magic I think-” Tony was cut off by a warm hand placed on his arm, gently gripping with strength behind it that the teen would never use, not against him.

“Mr. Stark, what happened with Rogers?”

Tony would have winced, if he wasn’t so tired. Instead he slumped a little, leaning into Peter’s shoulder. “He decided I wasn’t that important. That’s all, kid.” There was silence for a moment, before Tony jumped off the counter and pulled Peter along with him, to the massively comfortable couches awaited. 

“I promise, you’ll like this one, I’ll even order a couple pizzas and pop some popcorn and it’ll be a real guy’s night, just you and me.” Tony grinned as he all but shoved Peter into the couch cushions, ignoring the weary amusement on his face as he ran back to the kitchen for the popcorn. 

~.~

In the end Peter did like the movie, even if Mr. Stark had fallen asleep just at the good part. The Queen turning into a bear had been really funny to watch, if he was honest. Still, he had patrol tonight in a rougher part of town and while Mr. Stark really should have been sleeping in his bed, the couch was comfortable enough he’d probably be fine. 

“Friday, where can I get a blanket?” He asked softly, and the lights that appeared on the floor panels lead him to a closet filled with the softest blankets Peter had ever felt. Grinning, he grabbed the biggest, thickest one and dragged it back over to Mr. Stark, who was drooling a little as he slept. Shaking his head, Peter laid the blanket over him with care, patting his shoulder before sneaking back to the elevator. 

Checking his phone one last time, he grinned a little at the vitriol in the agreement he’d gotten from a certain Lieutenant Colonel in his crusade to get the Avengers to realize what they’d lost. 

Nobody just abandoned Mr. Stark. Peter wouldn’t let them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just to explain the effect Peter has on Tony, its not codependence as much as... that's just the effect Omegas have on people. they calm you down, make you feel less stressed, and Peter knows Tony needs as much of that as he can get   
> (and no, Peter does not know that Tony is actually an Omega)


	5. Little Mad Scientist, Indeed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the wait on this, guys, life hit me and shit happened and now theres a new chapter so go wild lol
> 
> enjoy ^^

He’d been making modifications to Mark 56 when the glass doors slid open with a hiss, a familiar face sticking in before she made a beeline straight to where he’d hidden as soon as he heard the sound of footsteps coming towards him. Admittedly, behind the filing cabinets wasn’t his best spot, but in a panic induced haze of exhaustion it was all he’d been able to accomplish in the five or so seconds of warning he had from the sudden scent of a determined alpha approaching him.

Natatsha just gave him The Stare, a patently disappointed look that rivaled Steve’s and he was not going to think about Steve, he was going to think about the damn redhead that was manhandling him out from behind the metal cabinets and dragging him towards the doors.

He tried grabbing at random surfaces and edges along the way but she was, as usual, much stronger than he’d probably ever be. Stupid alpha induced strength. So, he attempted the tried and true method of getting pests out of his life. “Friday, please initiate Protocol OFF!”

There was silence for a moment, Nat glancing down at him with mirth in her eyes before she started dragging him again, this time with a little more gentle force. “C’mon now, medvezhonok, do you really think I would have gotten this far without a little help?”

Tony let himself drop into dead weight as he huffed, petulant as he grumbled about the meddling redheads in his life. “I’m fine, I’ve been fine, I’ll always be fine I do not need to be mANHANDLED-!” He squeaked as Natasha scooped him up and threw him over her shoulder, carrying him efficiently through the glass doors and to the elevator. 

“I’m aware you think you are fine, Tony, but the reality is that you’ve not been fine for a while now, isn’t it.” Her tone left no room for rebuttal, Tony sagging even further as he grumbled under his breath. 

“Besides, Pepper asked Friday if you’d been sleeping, and guess what?” The doors to the elevator opened, Nat jostling him a little in emphasis. “You, little mad scientist, have not been sleeping  _ or  _ eating.”

Tony yelped as his ass was whacked playfully, Nat carrying him through his suite and to his bedroom, where he was finally set down in the private master bathroom. She stared down at him, expression severe. “You are going to take a nice, long, hot shower and get clean, I could smell you from entering the building.”

Before Tony could even attempt to squawk his outrage at the insinuation that he smelled  _ that bad _ , Nat was turning and leaving, locking the door behind her. Huffing in indignation, Tony stripped as surly as possibly and turned the water as hot as it would go, ignoring the way his instincts told him  _ he  _ was supposed to be taking care of his alpha, not the other way around. Nat wasn’t his alpha, none of them were. 

After sudsing up and rinsing down, he strapped on his fluffiest robe and shuffled out of the bathroom, following the spicy smells of what could only be one of Nat’s signature dishes. Sure enough, Tony sat at the large table in his kitchen as Natasha set a plate full of spiced chicken kiev, settled on a bed of what looked to be a very green and yellow salad. 

Really he was starving, uncaring of whatever could have been in the gift of food, and maybe that was his downfall. The moment he finished the plate, scraping up the remnants of sauce, his eyes fell shut almost on their own, his body near slumping over as he slurred a faint question. Nat rolled her eyes, having watched him finish the meal, and picked him back up a bit more gently than she had earlier.

“C’mon, time for bed with you.” She whispered, taking him to his room and setting him carefully on the bed. Tony sighed, pulling his thick comforters up to his chin and turning on his side, but not before muttering a small “Thanks…”

There was a quiet chuckle above him, but the only thing that greeted him after was a peaceful black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just for anyone that's worried that Nat is a Bad Guy and tricking him/poisoning him/whatnot Evil Doing, she's a Friend. a Pack Mate.
> 
> she's to be trusted


	6. What are best friends for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo next chapter!! sorry about that wait, thought I'd updated sooner than that ^^'
> 
> gonna add some tags i think, to reflect how i think this fic is going. hopefully it doesnt put too many of you off XD
> 
> enjoy!

Its nearly something like torture, watching back the video feed from the Compound, but Tony did it anyway. He needed to know they were getting along, needed to know things were working well on their end, and even if he had to shut it off every time Bucky came in the room, well, that was between him and the bots.

He was watching the feed from that night, the chicken tenders and mashed potatoes one, hand propped up under his chin as he watched the pure comradery in their faces, their voices, the way they nudged and spoke to each other. 

He missed it. Missed them, missed having what had become his family, but the connection felt broken. Like a wire had burnt out and he couldn’t figure out where the damn thing was. Even considering going back made his stomach tie itself up in knots. 

Ever since the day Natasha had essentially broken in and made him take care of himself, he’d been doing a little better. He got a little over three hours of sleep a night and was eating smoothies every 13 hours; he considered that a win over how he was before hand.

Every instinct inside of him was screaming that he’d abandoned his pack. The inhibitors did a good job keeping them at bay for the most part, but on days like these where he tortured himself with the sights and sounds of his team being a family, the louder they screamed.

“Boss, you’ve got visitors.” Friday said quietly, Tony glancing up at the camera in the left corner, one hand coming up halfheartedly to close the camera feed even as he stood and headed for the main room of the penthouse.

“Who is it?” He wasn’t supposed to have any sort of meeting today, not with anyone important at least and Pepper would have let him know besides, especially if she was coming over. His questions were answered as he stepped into the living room, Rhodey sitting on one of the couches with a grim smile on his face.

“Hey Tones, got a minute?”

Tony stopped midstep, suspicion filling his face. “Yeah, I’ve got a minute. No more than that though, I’m afraid, very busy, things to do-”

Rhodey was up and had an arm locked around his shoulder before he could run away back to the shop. “Yeah, well, you’ll just have to make some time, huh?” 

Tony stared up at him questioningly, allowing himself to be gently manhandled into one of the armchairs, Rhodey sitting right across from him, though he kept hold of one of his hands. 

“Now, I want you to listen before you say anything, or make any kind of argument. Okay?” He said, careful, and just like that Tony’s hackles were raised. 

“Okay. I’ll listen.” But he wouldn’t stick around after, not with the glint in his best friend’s eye.

“I brought someone to the tower. For you to talk to.”

Tony’s mouth snapped open but one look from Rhodey had him shutting it, slumping back in his seat, surly.

“Thank you. Now, you’ve not been doing well, Tones. She’s a sweet woman, top of her field, and she’s no slouch so you can babble and she’ll be able to mostly keep up.” He paused, taking one of Tony’s shaking hands in his own. “I just want you to have a chance to get those thoughts out of your head.”

Tony sighed, still feeling mildly betrayed but… if it would make Rhodey feel better if he at least tried…

“Okay. I’ll give it one go.”

The relief on Rhodey’s face was almost worth it. Almost.


	7. The Real MVPs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo a new chapter!! I am really sorry this got put on hiatus for so long, I was struggling with the whole direction thing and worrying about the plot but I enjoy writing this fic, so write it I will!!
> 
> warnings/tags for this chapter: Big Self Harm Moment, Discussion of Trauma, Therapy Positivity
> 
> I've added a few tags! also this is a Polyvengers fic now, just to warn people not into it!!

As it turned out, spewing his feelings out to a complete stranger was easier than he thought it’d be. She was an impartial, objective listener for the most part, and called him out on his bullshit when it was needed. The first session went about as well as he figured it would, even if he found himself throwing a few thoughts and feelings out just on instinct, just to see what she’d say.

She’d immediately set up another session with Friday the second the hour was up. He’d tried to stop her, to tell her that he was a very busy man but she’d just given him a Look and he’d folded like a badly built card house. Alphas were very hard to say no to, especially when they knew what they were doing.

 

She listened about Afghanistan, when he found the courage to start from the beginning, she listened about Yinsen and the guilt Tony still held about that whole fucking thing that kept popping up in his dreams. Night terrors more like, and he’d spewed vitriol about that as well.

That whole situation had taken up most of the second session, and he’d found himself actually tired after that one. Who knew talking about your worst fears and darkest memories would take it out of you?

He sure as hell didn’t. 

By the third session he was trying to figure out what to tell her and what should probably stay secret, which was when she reminded him of the confidentiality papers she’d had him sign the first day. Unsure, he still didn’t go much past how Obadiah had betrayed him, how he’d died, and how Pepper and Rhodey had been there for him since the beginning but how he felt he had done so poorly on his end of the bargain in their relationship. 

She’d given him another Look at that point, pointing out that there were no bargains when it came to friendship. If they didn’t think he cared, they wouldn’t have stuck around this long. 

He’d had a hard time refuting that, but he’d given Pepper a much longer hug the next time he saw her.

The night terrors had increased in frequency after that last session, Tony calling off his fourth after a particularly bad night. Friday had been trying to get him to eat, had all but begged him to call Pepper or Rhodes and get them to come over just to “hang out”. He was sure she would have called them herself if she respected his own feelings about bothering them any less. 

Then, one day, he’d had a sharp tool in one hand, he didn’t even remember what it was now but there had been a bit too much blood and Friday had been screaming and suddenly there were strong arms around him and after that, Rhodey had taken some time off to stay with him in the Tower. 

Pepper was informed but with her duties at SI there was no way she could stay over indefinitely. Instead he was almost positive they’d put him on suicide watch, even if neither of them called it that. 

Rhodey ate dinner with him, put him to bed around midnight and never, ever left him alone with the tools in the workshop. It grated on Tony’s nerves a little, being treated like a invalid, but one day, looking in the mirror, he couldn’t help but notice the trenches of darkness under his eyes, the gaunt look in his face. If this was how he looked all the time, it was no wonder they thought he needed the extra help.

It was two weeks later that Nat had showed up again, alpha pheromones making Tony feel weak in the knees as she scooped him into a tight hug. She hadn’t left, had taken over making meals since she was basically chef level and he and Rhodey could and had burnt water. 

He was sitting across from her one day, slowly eating a plate of spaghetti she’d made for him as his second large meal of the day, when he noticed the dark circles starting to form under her own eyes.

“You okay?” He surprised himself, asking the first honest question he had in a while. She glanced up at him from her tablet, still scrolling as she looked back down and shrugged.

“Steve has been insistent on updates. I’ve been pulling all nighters heading from here back to the Compound to give reports.”

Tony felt his heart grow cold, his eyes locked on his plate as he twirled his spaghetti around, no longer hungry. “What kind of reports?”

She glanced up again, this time squinting. “Reports on the news of the Accords and how they’re affecting real world vigilantes and supers.”

He couldn’t help but slump a little. Somehow, having Steve know what he was dealing with cause a spike of panic that made him want to run from the room and hide in the shop. 

She was still looking at him, concern growing in her expression, so to make it go away he slurped up a giant mouthful of spaghetti, just to see the disgust in her eyes replace the probably valid concern.

Hopefully she wouldn’t catch the fact that he hadn’t slept in three nights. 


End file.
